Claire tells Blake that she's sorry.

“Oh my god,” Ian shouted as streams of jizz shot across the room, coating Sarah’s face. Ashleigh pushed her forward, making sure that none of it made it into her waiting mouth. When he finished, her hair, eyes and nose were all dripping with cum.

“I didn’t say you could close your mouth, bitch” Ashleigh barked. Sarah winced, then looked at Ian. He nodded, and silently, she opened her mouth and stuck her tongue back out. Claire watched as Ashleigh began to lick the cum off Sarah’s face.

“That’s right,” someone in the crowd said, “lick that shit up.”

“Fucking cumrag.”

Drew’s shout earlier had opened the floodgates, and everyone was cheering or insulting them as they worked. Even the girls in the crowd were getting into it. One raven-haired girl– a roller-derby looking girl with a full sleeve and Betty Page hair– shouted “Woof like a dog” before leaning back and laughing with her friends. Sarah’s face turned bright red, but she didn’t close her mouth.

Ian had started stroking his cock again, but after shooting a load that size, Claire doubted he was getting it up again any time soon. She should have felt nervous, she thought, after Blake told her what she had to do, but instead she found herself getting wet as she listened to them. Were they going to shout those things at her?

Yes, they were going to shout those things at her. And worse.... But what, exactly, were they going to say? Who was going to say it? Claire looked around at the crowd, trying to figure out what each person thought of her, what they were going to say. She didn’t know some of them, but she was more worried about the ones she did know. What was Ian going to want, after all those times she told him she wouldn’t fuck him? What was Jordan going to say after she made fun of his cock one night while out drinking? (Even Sarah, who broke up with Jordan because the sex was boring, never told him to his face that she thought his cock was too small. But Claire– she just couldn’t resist.) And Ashleigh? and Sarah?

Ashleigh flicked her tongue across Sarah’s face, picking up some cum but leaving most trailing behind, smearing Sarah’s make-up even more. “She looks like a Jackson Pollack,” Ian said, laughing at his own joke. “Get a fucking life, Ian,” Drew shouted. He gave Drew the finger with his free hand while pumping wildly with the other.

“Feed it to her!” The raven haired girl shouted again, “feed it to the bitch!”

With that, Ashleigh grabbed Sarah by the jaw and spit all the cum she’d collected right into Sarah’s mouth. Sarah’s eyes bulged in shock. She started to spit it back out, but Ashleigh clamped her lips onto Sarah and sunk her tongue in like a plunger to **** it down. Sarah’s eyes darted around the room as everyone cheered Ashleigh on.

“Swallow swallow swallow,” Ryan started chanted. Drew joined in, then the rest of the guys and a couple of the girls, until everyone in the room was cheering. After looking around nervously again, Sarah realized no one wanted this to stop. She closed her eyes and began to kiss back, fiercely, pressing her tiny frame against Ashleigh.

It became less of a kiss and more of a fight with tongues and shoulders, their heads twisting back and forth to get a better angle as cum leaked out the sides of their mouths. No matter how she leaned or pushed, her hundred and ten pounds were not moving Ashleigh’s curvier, fleshier frame. When she pulled back, her dress was covered in oil and cum and she was left gasping for breath. Ashleigh shook her head, smiling.

“Is that how it is, bitch?”

Everyone in the room broke out into a cheer again. Sarah looked around, unnerved, while Ashleigh moved into position. Without warning, she grabbed the back of Sarah’s head by the hair and turned it towards the couch. Ian, his cock hard and throbbing again, growled as he jerked a second load all over Sarah’s face.

His second barrage was just as thick and milky as the first, blanketing her eyes nose lips and chin with splooge. The party broke out into wordless cheering– no chants, just woots and hollers as Sarah smiled, weakly.

“Are you ready to make me proud?” Blake whispered. Claire nodded without looking at him, not able to find the words. It was only when Blake reached down to hold her hand that she realized she had been touching herself. Finally, she looked him in the eyes again.

His eyes were always cold, but behind that cold was a single-minded passion. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel; it was that he only felt for her. Their display didn’t get him off. He wanted Claire. This made her feel proud and ashamed at the same time: proud of his love, and ashamed of her jealous and her flirting. “Yes. I want to do this. I want to make you proud.”

Sarah moved to rub her eyes when Ashleigh growled, “Did I say you could wipe your face,” slapping her hand away.

“Oooh,” Drew taunted. Ashleigh shot him a dirty look.

“It’s not like you’re getting any right now, are you Drew?” This made everyone, including Sarah, laugh. She tried to wipe her eyes again but Ashleigh just slapped her hand a second time.

“That’s enough,” Blake said, quieting the room with his powerful voice. “It’s time for the main event.”

Quickly, everyone began to move around. Ashleigh helped Sarah clean off her face– or at least her eyes– while Ian and Ryan left the room. The raven-haired girl said something about needing another drink and half the party followed her. The rest moved to the edge of the room, sitting down on the couch or in random chairs, creating a space in the center. Claire counted them for the tenth or twentieth time. Were there really thirty people there? Was she doing to be apologizing– performing– for thirty people?

While Claire began worrying, Ian and Ryan carried a round box. It looked like a short table with a motor attached to it. The table was big– probably five by five– but it only stood about two feet off the ground. In the middle was another short, round box. It took Claire a minute to realize what she was looking at.

They had made a stage. A stage with a small seat right in the middle for her. Ian and Ryan tested the motor, watching it turn around slowly based on a remote control Ian was using. This was where she was going to put on her show: in front of everyone, so everyone had a chance to see her. The glass made sure that nothing was going to be hidden.

When Ian gave the thumb’s up and everyone was back from the makeshift bar, Blake stepped into the middle of the room, just next to the stage.

“I know you already know these, but Claire doesn’t, so I’m going to say them again. Here are the ground rules tonight,” Blake started.